Nice, March 30, 1842.—I hope soon to leave this town, and I shall write more freely as soon as I am on French territory; for in the Sardinian states before a letter arrives or leaves its starting-place, it has generally been opened several times. The traces are obvious, and this knowledge has often paralysed my pen.
Nice, April 1, 1842.—Yesterday evening I went to a great ball given by the Duke of Devonshire, as a conclusion to the season at Nice. Like everything that he does, it was magnificent; the lighting of the hall was especially novel and beautiful; there were no chandeliers, but three great arches formed of palm branches and surmounted with a row of candles; each of these arches was placed upon the pillars at each side of the hall, a most novel and tasteful device. I there said good-bye to all the company present. I leave Nice fairly well satisfied with my stay. There have been some drawbacks, but the good side outweighs the bad, and my general recollections will be pleasant.
Aix-en-Provence, April 3, 1842.—I left Nice yesterday and was very sorry to part from the Castellane trio. They are no less sorry at my departure. The weather was superb, the sea a deep blue, the flowers abundant and the road admirable as far as Cannes. The hills of the Esterel were still somewhat rough. I came on here without stopping, hoping to find the Abbé Dupanloup and to have a talk with him. I only missed him by an hour. He has been forced to go forward without stopping, owing to the regulations of the postal service; he left me a little note expressing his regret. I am now starting for Nîmes and shall go by way of Arles, a road which I do not know. Nîmes I visited during my first journey to the south, in 1817, a terribly long time ago.
Nîmes, April 5, 1842.—I arrived here yesterday evening. It was raining when we passed by Arles and I was unable to visit the points of interest. I was especially struck by the new and magnificent road, full of works of art, which crosses the most frightful country in the world and leads here from Aix. First of all it crosses a district called the Crau, which is horribly sterile and is composed of nothing but pebbles. Water has been drawn from the Durance to irrigate this accursed land by an infinity of little canals. It can only be hoped that these measures may evoke a little vegetation. From Arles onwards the country is less ugly, though the Camargue is not beautiful, and apart from some wild oxen I saw nothing curious. The girls of Arles have a great reputation for their beauty and their pretty costumes. Here I was unfortunate, for I saw nothing but very ugly faces and very dirty and slovenly dresses.
My travelling companions, Fanny, her governess and Charles de Talleyrand are starting to see the Pont du Gard which I saw a long time ago. On their return we shall visit the curiosities of the town and go on together to Montpellier.
Montpellier, April 6, 1842.—Yesterday we visited the antiquities of Nîmes, which I was glad to see again. They are well preserved, and I can remember that some years ago they made me understand the charm of real proportion. Unfortunately the weather is wretched and it is very vexing to encounter rain in a country which constantly suffers from drought.
Toulouse, April 8, 1842.—We left Montpellier the day before yesterday at the end of the morning. I gave lunch to the Rector of the Academy[ [56] and to his eldest daughter who is my goddaughter, for her mother, who died of the cholera, had been brought up with me, and I have always kept up my connection with this very estimable family. Then we went to see the Fabre[ [57] museum which is poor, and the better chosen and better arranged museum of the Marquis of Montcalm. Finally, under umbrellas, we went round the famous promenade of Peyrou. In good weather, which we did not enjoy yesterday, the sea, the Pyrenees, the Cévennes and the Alps, can be seen from a certain point. All that we could see was the castle, the aqueducts and the equestrian statue of Louis XIV.
Bordeaux, April 10, 1842.—We came on here from Toulouse without stopping. The weather was better but a bitter wind succeeded the rain, and I am now taking care of myself by the fire while the others explore the town. I have repeatedly visited the south of France and can now afford to take my travelling duties easily. To-day we shall start again, and the day after to-morrow, if God wills, we shall sleep at Rochecotte. I am longing to be at rest in my own dear home.
Letters from Berlin say that Bülow is really to succeed Maltzan. He owes his triumph to the fact that he is the opposite of Kanitz. Maltzan is in a sanatorium at Charlottenberg.
Madame de Lieven has fallen a victim to influenza: M. Guizot does not leave her bedside; both are absolute devotees to music. M. Guizot will talk of nothing else and professes inability to sleep after visiting the opera. He is the subject of much ridicule in consequence.